


Wind has a Certain Ambiance of Horror

by gerrd_way



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 03:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17911385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerrd_way/pseuds/gerrd_way
Summary: This is a spooky ghost story about a super windy day. I honestly don't have a better way to explain it.





	Wind has a Certain Ambiance of Horror

The wind on my back pushed me faster down the road. Faster, faster, _faster_ – then it changed directions. It whistled through the trees, giving an ominous feeling to the cold, cloudy day. The leaves tumbled down the pavement, rattling like dry bones, like the sound of a dancing skeleton. My heartbeat was just a little too fast. I know that’s what happens when you open a long-sealed mausoleum during a tornado watch, but what was I supposed to do – wait for a warm, sunny day to raise the dead? That would be a little ridiculous.

_I hope it’s just wind._

Honestly, breaking into the mausoleum wasn’t my idea. It was just necessary that I was the one who did it. If a random person broke into it instead of his great-great-granddaughter, then the spell would work totally differently, I was told. It was a good thing I happened to only live an hour from where this guy was buried.

_I’m sure it’s just the wind – it has to be._

I only took one thing too – his lapel pin. I read a thing in this journal I found at my grandmother’s house that was his. It talked about how it was one of his most prized possessions. That’s the only thing I needed to get this done. I didn’t touch the body, or the dead flowers that were still in the mausoleum from, I have to assume, he was buried, or even the bottom of the coffin. I had to touch the lid to get to the lapel pin.

            _Was the sky this orange when I went in?_

The weather couldn’t be related to what I did – the weather had a tornado warning starting from last night. Even if this whole thing was based on me, could it really be from my intention and not just my action? Sure there was magic and spells and everything, but nothing in our book talks about the dead being able to control the weather because they were angry with us living people. And anyway, why a tornado? I think if I were a ghost who could control the weather I’d go for the really crazy stuff – the smiting lighting, giant thunderstorms, hurricanes, blizzards. The scary stuff. All a tornado watch is is a little too much wind.

_It really is blow-you-over wind._

I’m not even sure if I believe in ghosts or spirits or spells or any of this stuff. My friend kinda roped me into it, and it helps too that we found out my super dead ancestor has a fancy mausoleum here in town because that meant less digging for me. Still annoying because good ol’ grandpa couldn’t swing a nineteenth-century wheelchair ramp so my friend who’s the actual Wiccan could get the lapel pin, but I guess he didn’t really think two hundred years in the future.

            _Is it just the wind?_

The wind picked up again. The dormant trees swayed and branches seemed to taunt the ground, ready to break any minute. The wind seemed to hold me in place – how is it that I had both a headwind and a tailwind? It felt almost if I had a pair of hands on my back trying to push me forward, away from the cemetery, and another pair on my shoulders pushing me back the way I had come from.

            _This can’t just be wind – what wind is this strong?_

I pushed forward. All I had to do was get back to my car. Screw the spell, I just wish I hadn’t had to go alone, and that there wasn’t this crazy weather. This spell better be worth it. I wasn’t even totally sure what it did past what Heather had told me. “Something really cool, I’m not sure yet,” was all I got. “You have to go get it, it’ll work better,” she told me. I hope it was something cool. I kept pushing against the wind, trying to focus my eyes on my car in the distance, ignoring the biting chill of the wind against my face, ignoring the sense that there was someone – something – watching me.

            _Is there anyone else out here?_

I looked around quickly, but there was no one else. I was hoping maybe if there were just someone else to commiserate in the cold chill of the wind, maybe someone to grab onto if I started to get blown away, then it wouldn’t be as bad. The leaves started to fly around, carried by the wind. They were getting too high to seem normal. I started to walk faster – as fast as my feet would carry me against this wind. There was no way I could run against it. It felt like I was pushing against a stack of boxes filled with books or rocks or bricks.

            _Please let that whistling be the wind._

The air was filled with noise – the rushing of wind, the chiming of empty branches, light rattling of the leaves that still stayed ground level. The wind bounced off of the roofs of the surrounding buildings. The grey lopsided bricks and random gargoyles and ravens on the buildings didn’t help make the wind feel less haunted. The wind whistled again – did it just stay stop?

            _No, no, no, no, no – it can’t be. It can’t actually be a ghost._

I started walking faster. My pulse raced. I walked as fast as I could, pushing against the sentient wind. I couldn’t stop at this point, what good would that do? Keep going, I told myself, just keep going. Suddenly, I felt the wind under my feet. Before I could realize what was happening, as if I ever figured out what happened there, I tumbled to the ground. I was literally knocked down by the wind. Did it just whistle, “stop” again?

            _Just stay calm. Get up. Keep going. Just get home._

If I believe in ghosts, they do seem to be tied to a certain place. If this was a ghost, it would be fine once I got home. If ghosts are real, if this was a ghost, if this ghost really did want me to stop and it wasn’t just my imagination freaking me out, then I would be fine once I started driving home.

            _Get home. Get home. Get home._

“Stay home,” I heard the wind whistle. My eyes got wide. This was not my home. This was a cemetery. A cemetery surrounded by a bunch of creepy old buildings and a ton of wind. I needed to get to my car before this wind literally killed me. I was sure that that’s what the wind meant. How else would a cemetery be my home? I kept walking as fast as I could.

            _Not too far now. Just keep moving._

Then, as if there was a ghostly, invisible hand, my front pocket opened and the lapel pin floated up in front of me. I stopped in my tracks. “What. The. Fuck,” I said. The wind was still strong as ever, but now it was also physically holding the one reason I came here. I was bewildered – absolutely no idea what was going on. The wind whistled again. Among the normal rushing of the wind, I heard a quiet, “Go.” The headwind changed directions and left me with the ability to run as fast as I could to my car.

            _Screw the pin. Screw it. It’s not that important._

As I crossed through the gates from the part of the town with the old buildings to the newer side of town with shops and actual streets, the wind dropped. What was once unbearable wind calmed to a much lighter breeze. The sky was still tinged orange, the wind still heavy enough to notice, and it was still cold, but it wasn’t what it once was. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. I looked back and people seemed to be walking normally through the path that I was just on. Laughing in pairs, looking at the trees and historical buildings, taking a walk before the weather got worse.

            _Where were they a second ago? Where was I?_

I calmed my breathing and kept moving toward my car. There was no way I was going back through those gates, even if it meant that I would never know what had just happened to me. I didn’t have the lapel pin, but I know Heather would understand – well, she would understand my emotions, and I knew neither of us would understand what had happened at all. I turned the ignition. My car started up, thankfully, and I started toward the highway back home. I didn’t look back.


End file.
